


A Ghost Named Patricia

by freshiewrites



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: GHOST STUFF, Ghosts, Horror, Mild Horror, Mostly an inside joke, Other, and venting because Patricia is a bitch, but yeah, paranormal horror, she scared the shit out of me last night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24705787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshiewrites/pseuds/freshiewrites
Summary: You know what that feeling means. The breath of cold air down your back, the shadow that passes through an empty hallway.Edge doesn't believe you... at first. But this ghost is fucking persistent.
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	A Ghost Named Patricia

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys this is a mostly inside joke vent fic cause im pretty sure i have a ghost and ive named them Patricia and they're a bitch ok
> 
> anyways, if you like horror thats a little bit funny, enjoy XD
> 
> (also i really like this premise so if anyone wants me to continue it, i will XD)

The first day that you and Edge moved into the new house, you knew you weren’t alone. There was no blood dripping on the walls, no scratches in the ceiling spelling out “GET OUT” or some shit. There was only that familiar chill, the same general feeling of something watching your back, waiting for you to misstep a stair and go tumbling to your doom. You’d thought moving out of the last house would get rid of that feeling, but either this house had its own issues, or your good old Patricia had followed you here. It wouldn’t surprise you; she was a fucking bitch like that.

Edge could see you, standing still in the hallway with your shoulders stiff and your hands full of bags from the truck as you stared, empty at the shadows that took up most of the hallway. He glanced down that way himself, huffing before he set down one of his own bags, flipping on the light. There was nothing there, of course, and while you knew Edge believed you, you also knew he only truly believed in that which he had experienced himself. And the only ghosts he’d ever met were monster ones.

You turned from your vigil, giving him a grin. “Ready to start a new adventure?”

He grinned. “Always, my dear.”

And that was the first day of your own personal stay in psychological hell.

It started off small. Things you’re dear old Patricia had started with. First, something you thought would be in one place, was somewhere completely different. You could have blamed Edge for this, if only he wasn’t such an obliging neat freak that he always kept things exactly where you’d placed them in order to keep you from losing them.

You lost the TV remote a good 11 times before Edge finally put a damn beeper on the thing, made and patented by his brother. That didn’t do a damn thing in the long run, until the day you found the stupid thing on the kitchen table, dismantled in precise little pieces. You swept them in a pile into your hand, taking them straight to Red who only gave you a weird look before putting it back together. 

Your pictures on the walls would move, a few weeks in. At first simply from one spot to another, then the pictures themselves began to morph and change, going from the happy memories you remembered to something horrifying. Edge had seen them himself, and in a display of horror, took them all out into the backyard and burned them.

They appeared back on the walls, completely normal and in their original spots the next day.

The floors all had a particular creak to them, sharp sounds that only made any noise when they were walked over. You’d be home alone, waiting on Edge to return as the floorboards just down the hall you couldn’t see creaked, as if someone was standing on them and swaying back and forth, just waiting for you to round the corner. You never told Edge about it after the first time, his insistence that it was the house settling making you feel… not crazy, but certainly not sane. 

It was nearly three months in that you woke up because the blanket on your body had been yanked down. Edge woke up, the blanket you shared obviously being yanked from his form as well. He yelled, he cursed, and called his brother to cuss him out for pranking you for so long… Red didn’t confess to any wrongdoing and somehow, you believed him. This… Red wouldn’t have put you in this kind of state of anxious fear for so long. 

Edge didn’t believe it. He finally put up cameras, waiting to see who it was that was obviously pranking you both. There was never anything on video, nothing but sounds that sent chills down your back because they were all either at night when you were sleeping, or when neither of you were home.

Screams, faint and far off. The sounds of thumping walls and wails in the basement. Other sounds, so many sounds, all that made Edge’s hand squeeze your own tightly.

“Is it still the house settling?” You asked, and Edge had no answer.

“Fucking Patricia.” He finally said, staring blankly at the screen. You could only agree. 

“Fucking Patricia.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed, leave a comment!
> 
> if you hate Patricia, leave a comment!!


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